


From the Pages of...

by Severina (Fain_Snape)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Endding, F/M, Gen, Good Severus Snape, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Love, Near Death Experiences, Non-Sexual, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Post-War, Severus Survives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 13:10:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11253633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fain_Snape/pseuds/Severina
Summary: Not all is what it appears to be on the surface. The musings of Severus Snape. Ready by Harry Potter after the final battle. Severus survives and is in a coma. Harry is determined that the truth should be known. Only what is the truth?





	From the Pages of...

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I own Nothing. The character mentioned here in are and will always be belonging to J. k. Rowling. If you wish to read the true story of Harry Potter please read her most amazing books.
> 
>  **Author's Notes:** This was a random plot bunny idea. I don't know if I'll continue it. If there's any interest in it I could continue it. I don't know though. It was just some random musing, turned to a random snippet. Hope you enjoy.

November 2nd, 1981 (00:34)  


_Love_

_Such a simple four letter word, with so vast a meaning. In all reality is it not truly a wonder we have yet to fully understand this simple word? Albus talks of love as if it is a force of magic. How wrong and how so very right he is. The great poets attempt to show the facets of this force, but they too only manage to catch a glimpse of this truly mystifying force._

_Love_

_No more powerful a word exists. Not even hate comes close to the power of love. The love of a woman for her husband, being so great it can overcome the violence and abuse laid bare upon her flesh and soul. I can to this very day remember my mother’s last words to me. ‘Love, my dear son, is the greatest of natures wonders. Never forget how deep I loved. For you. For my husband. For my family. I will always be there for you my beloved son. Regardless of what life has thrown at us, do not allow love to turn to hate for it is in that moment that you will become as your father became. Remember instead that magic comes and goes. But love. Love never truly dies.’_

_I often wondered why she would tell me this. Then a month later I get a letter that states she’s passed on. A month after the funeral I receive the same notice, only it’s my father and attached to this is a note he left for me. I shall always remember those brief words. They forever changed my life. And in a way, they broke me and drove me to become what I am now. Filled with regrets and sorrow and unable to leave the vicious cycle I have created of loneliness and deception. Where none can know who I really am. I was fourteen years old and on that day I learned the truth of how many faceted love really is. I have enclosed the words of that note for proprieties sake. For one day these words will be read and my story known. I just hope it will not have been too late for the world to know who I really am._

_‘You have every right to hate me my son, but I must beg your forgiveness none the less. I allowed my pain to turn to bitterness and my love to turn to hate. I took all that was good and cherished in my life and destroyed it. I realize that now. Only now it’s too late for me. I simply wish it wasn’t too late for you. I love you son. I always have, I just never knew how to show it.’_

_If only it were so simple._

_Love_

_Love never is._

_It is complicated and tangled and it forever changes a person. There are so many forms of love. It is the very thing that binds us. Allows us to forgive and to move through this world leaving an impression. A connection. The things we do for love have more power then all the magic in the world._

_Love_

_That is what Albus says drives me to be the man I am now. Seeking forgiveness for the part I had to play in all that has taken place. In her death. I let him believe that I was ‘in love’ with her. Lily. I was not, contrary to popular belief ‘in love’ with my best friend. No I loved her as a sister. Our love was purely platonic. Anyone who’d really gotten to know us would have understood this fact. We were best friends. All the way to the end. She knew when we began our fourth year and I was able to tell her of all that had happened that summer that I had resided at Malfoy Manor, that we must be careful. Her being my friend so openly would only result in her death. Something I could not allow. I told her I would push her away in public and that I was sorry for having to make her hate me._

_She told me that day at the beginning of our third year ‘I could never hate you.’ And she meant it. Something truly devastatingly accurate, yet something I could hardly understand at that time in my life. I had after all only ever experienced the darkness of love, never the light of it’s shining glory. I will not bother writing down the shadows of darkness that were my life in that time. I will simply state that we remained friends in secret. With each insult, the tender intended meanings were hidden. Each of us able to read the other perfectly. A glance, a simple touch, a secret smile. Those were our conversations. Even when we seemed to truly hate each other._

_For years we kept our true relationship hidden behind masks and cleverly concealed words. It was only when Lily became the target of the Dark Lord that I truly began to realize I could no longer hide what lay hidden in my heart. My love for her had never wavered and I could not stand by and let her die._

_When I had joined the Death Eaters I had done so to give them what they desperately need, a spy. I knew I was in the perfect position. Able to hide everything behind cleaver masks and snide sarcasm. Never truly revealing anything of import. Always hidden in the shadows. I was a master at deception from a young age. It is how I survived. When it became evident that Lily would be hurt I had to slip out of the shadows._

_For years Albus had received my warnings in carefully concealed code. Code he knew came from an inside source, but one he couldn’t identify. One he couldn’t track back to me. Until I stood before him and begged him to hide Lily, Potter and their son. I am not a perfect man and I still to this hate Potter, but Lily’s son was innocent of it all. I would do anything to protect Lily and her child. I had already been risking much more then my life to insure as few children as possible were affected by the war. I certainly wouldn’t stand by and let HIM destroy an innocent life. Not one so close to my own heart. For her child, to me, was akin to a treasured nephew. One I would do anything to protect._

_Albus believed I agreed to become his spy to protect Lily. Out of my love for her. Oh how little he knew that I had agreed to become a spy long before I was his. I had agreed when I first took the mark. I had seen Narcissa crying when she found out her husband was branded. Forced to become a Death Eater by his father. Narcissa. Another woman I love, but in a purely platonic way. Much as I love Lucius. They were my family, more then any I’ve ever had. I couldn’t bare to watch Narcissa suffer in silence. I wanted her to be free. As she should have been. Sadly her family was much as Lucius’s trapped in the dark._

_How strange that love is what drives us to do the most courageous thing, and at the same time drives us to loneliness and pain? It fascinates me to think about love and how much power there is in that simple emotion. Everyone thinks an infant destroyed the Dark Lord. How deluded they are. Love allowed me to fool the Dark Mark into believing I was truly loyal. It provided me with a protection none of the others have against the mark. I cannot be compelled or controlled. HE has no real power over me. I simply bear his mark as a brand that burns when he calls us. I feel no compulsion, no devotion, no will over-imposed upon my own. I know Lucius does. I’ve seen it. I’ve also seen him sick from what he’s been forced to do by that very compulsion and devotion. It is slowly destroying the man he is. I hope I can see the true end of this war before Lucius looses what little remains of the man I used to know._

_I fear for the children born in these times. Draco, Harry, Theodore… and so many others. All children who will be dragged into this war. Affected by the powers playing around them. Affected by who they are born too. So much pain wrapped up around this war. So much loss. So much destruction. How can this be worth it?_

_No it’s not so simple. Nothing ever is. Lily’s sacrifice is what protected Harry. It is that simple, and yet that complicated. Magic often is. Love even more so. Her love was powerful. Unconditional. Something truly rare. I could sense the remnants of it when I entered that house. Holding her form to me and weeping over the loss of such a rich life. Until I saw her son. Silent with tears running down his face. Looking at me with identical eyes to his mother. I touched him then. Gently lifting him into my arms until I cradled him to me. He clung to me and seemed to accept me. He was not frightened. He saw through the masks I am certain. How I wished I could have held him forever. Protected him. I vowed that day on my magic that I would protect him no matter the cost._

_I think I would have stayed there until the Ministry arrived if it hadn’t been for Alastor Moody. Blasted Auror was always too hot headed for his own good. Harry was taken from me, I don’t even know where he was taken too. I was carted off to Azkaban without even being informed of my crime._

_Love_

_It is what saved me from Azkaban. I did not have my wand as it had been taken from me when I had been arrested. I was left alone in a cell with the Dementors and nothing for protection against their affects. Had I not been a Master Occlumens I would have gone mad. Using my skills in mind magic and somehow still being protected by the magic I have yet to fully understand. I was able to generate a shield around myself that dampened the effects of the Dementors much as a Patronus does._

_On November 1st, 1981 at exactly 3pm I was taken from my cell and brought to face trial in front of the Wizengamot. Albus sat at it’s head and Veritaserum was administered and the interrogation begun. I could have fought it, and retained my secrets. I was not only a Potion Master of unrivalled skill, but I am also one of the most powerful Occlumens. Even Albus and the Dark Lord cannot penetrate my shields. I allowed the serum to affect me. Though they cannot know that, of that I am certain. They did after all give me a far stronger dose then would normally be needed._

_It was then that Albus truly learned who I was. Or in part. I did not reveal more then absolutely necessary. Suffice it to say that I was exonerated quickly. Recompense and an apology for my incarceration was given. No record of this meeting was ever kept. Everyone present know that should the Dark Lord rise again my true allegiance could never be known or I would die before I could do anything to help those who opposed him. Powerful memory charms were used on those members of the Wizengamot who’s allegiance is compromised. I am saddened to say this included Lucius. How I wish I could have spared him this so he would know he had an ally. Only it is not that simple. Albus explained to the whole of the gathering of Wizengamot members that to insure my true allegiance was never exposed they would need to be made to forget. I was grateful when he allowed Alastor and the other trusted Aurors to remember the truth about me. It would make my life much easier when I was forced to take back up the mantle of spy._

_I digress. It would seem my meandering thoughts are not as streamlined as they used to be before my incarceration. Oddly I am both relieved and yet terrified by the prospect. My shields are much stronger now then they ever were before. Somehow this new mix of Occlumency has provided me with a layer of protection that I know will be useful when the Dark Lord return. It has however made it much harder for me to access my true emotions._

_Somehow I know that it will be easy to pretend to hate the child I wish I could show the true depth of my love for. Harry should you ever be reading these pages I wish you to know. I never hated you. Not even a single moment. I have loved you as my nephew since the moment I laid eyes on you five days after your birth. If I somehow by miracle survive the war I hope that reconciliation will be able to be reached._

_Love_

_Such simple four letters, yet so powerful and defining a force of nature. Never have there been a truer motive for the things we do. Never will there be a truer power._

_The things we do. We do for love. The things we see. We see through the eyes of love. Tainted by the shadows the darkness cannot claim, what love has lit by light of day._

_Everything I have done has been out of love._

_I hope one day someone will realize that._

_~The Half-Blood Prince_

 

* * *

———————— November 2nd, 1981 ————————

* * *

Severus set down his quill. He smirked knowingly at his journal. Carefully crafted words his tool. One day he knew Harry would read these words. He wondered what the boy would look like then. He could still picture the baby. Small, pudgy, with large green eyes and pale milky skin, black hair sticking up in every direction. He hadn’t cried. Severus remembered that. He’d been clinging to the bars of his crib and staring at him with those big green eyes as silent drying tears clung to his little cheeks. Severus could still remember the velveteen touch of his skin as he’d brushed the tears away with the pad of his thumb. That combination of wetness and baby soft skin.

Yes he would remember those things for the rest of his life. He knew that one day long after the war was ended the boy receive this package and would see the words written from beyond the grave.

Severus was not delusional enough to believe he’d survive the war. How could he? He would be fighting for the survival of all those he cared for. All those he love and those he’d loved. He would use his life as the sacrifice to end the Dark Lord. No matter what it took. He did not believe in prophecy. He did believe in Love.

He would not allow a child to face the darkness that even adults feared to speak of. No he would be there. In the shadows. Protector and guardian. That was what he’d always been. Lily knew that. Had he been able to, he would have defended her with his life. If only he’d been there. If only he’d known. Regrets would do nothing. He could still remember how much regrets and pain had turned his father into the monster that he’d been. No he would become that. Never in more then a mask. Never. He couldn’t allow his heart to be tainted in the greatest of darkness, hate.

Should this happen. He would be just as lost as he felt. No. So long as he held onto that one ray of hope. That one small part of himself that was still pure. He could do anything that was needed. Buried at the very core of his mind was the man no one would ever get to know.

 

* * *

———————— August 2nd, 1998 ————————

* * *

Harry sat shell shocked on the chair in the infirmary. It had been three months since the battle. Three months since Headmaster Severus Snape had given his life to protect him. Yet. Somehow he wasn’t dead. He’d slipped into a coma and no one knew if he’d ever awaken. So here he sat next to the bed in the secluded room in the back of the infirmary at Hogwarts. While all around this room wizards and witches worked to restore the castle to it’s former glory.

Hogwarts magic had retreated to it’s heart and lay dormant. Almost as though Hogwarts itself was in a coma along with it’s headmaster. Minerva McGonagall had taken over as Headmistress, but it was clear even to her that Hogwarts did not recognize her as it’s true Head. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that the castle’s magic still clung to Severus.

Severus Snape

A man Harry didn’t know what to make of. He had seen memories that the man had given him, but somehow he knew that it wasn’t the whole story. Severus had allowed Harry only to see the surface of his love, but somehow Harry knew there was so much more to it then that. So much more to the story then unrequited love. No somehow it didn’t make sense to Harry that Severus would have loved his mother like that.

Everything he knew about the man told him that he wasn’t the kind of man to let his love be unspoken. Especially not to someone as close to him as Lily had clearly been. No there was more then met the eyes.

He’d been trying to piece together the pieces ever since the battle ended and the celebrations began. He’d not attended them until three days later. Like many who’d fought in the battle Harry had been helping to identify the wounded, recover the bodies of those who fell. Helping with organizing temporary living spaces for those who’d been left without a home after war. To help organize the funerals of those who’d died. Only then had he allowed himself to be pulled along by Hermione, Ginny and Ron to the parties and celebrations.

Hermione and Ron hadn’t lasted past the first month of peace. Harry had known they wouldn’t. They had been so different. Even before the war. Ron had been infatuated, but fame and glory had changed his friend. Ron had started flirting with the witches who sought him out. Acting as though he didn’t have a girlfriend. Hermione had not handled it well and they had rowed about it and broken up. Hermione was happy now. Or so Harry thought. She had come back to Hogwarts and started to help rebuilt. It was her spells that kept Severus in this state.

Harry turned his dull green eyes onto the man who lay as if peacefully asleep looking far younger then he truly was or ever had. His face slack and peaceful. Dark black eyelashes fluttering against stone white skin. It fascinated Harry as he watched the man’s face how his eyes seemed to move. Tracking who knew what. Long black hair, no longer greasy, lay sprawled over his pillow. Thin scars were visible on his neck, but somehow added to his overall appearance. Without the scowl Harry could see what Hermione had said about Severus looking handsome was true. Shaking his head Harry chuckled.

His thoughts were certainly weird today. Though honestly he didn’t even try and analyze that one. He looked instead to the leather bound journal he held in his lap. It was alive with magic. He could feel it pulse against his hand which rested on the cover. It had appeared on his bedside table early that morning. As if some magic or a house elf had decided he need to have it. He felt magic on it before he’d even fully registered it’s presence. Somehow the magic felt like Hogwarts at first and then shifted to feel different. Almost alien and yet so very comforting.

He ran his fingers over the words etched in gold on it’s cover ‘From the pages of’. If Harry had to guess he would say that the title was incomplete. Almost as if the journal was waiting for a name to be added. Somehow he doubted one ever would be. Slowly he pulled the cover open finding no resistance from the thrumming of magic. What he read on the pages that lay before him. Only reading the first entry before he had to close the journal again least he dissolve into tears.

How odd was it to be sitting here beside the very man who spoke to him through the words of a journal? Harry shivered. He knew from the entry that Severus hadn’t expected to survive, even if a small ray of hope had lingered in his words. He simply wanted to Harry to understand why he’d been how he’d been. How Harry wished everyone would see the true hero. Yet somehow he knew no one would. They wanted a legend. Not a shadow. How unfair it was.

He closed his eyes and felt the weight of all the lost chances and opportunities. All the loss and grief. All the pain and destruction of this war wash over him. Eighteen years old and already he felt older then Albus. How apropos. The boys-who-lived-to-feel-old. Harry chuckled at his own morose thoughts.

“The things we do. We do for love.” Harry whispered aloud. Looking into the face of a man he really didn’t know. Did anyone? Rising determined that when Severus woke. Yes it was a when, he refused to even cater the idea that Severus would not wake. WHEN he woke, he would not be met with distrust as he expects to be. Harry would insure of that. If it was the last thing he did. It was time that Severus’s story gold told.


End file.
